3 Creation’s mighty fabric all Shall be to atoms riven— The skies consume, the planets fall, Convulsions rock this earthly ball; There’s nothing firm but heaven. 4 A stranger, lonely here I roam, From place to place am driven; My friends are gone, and I’m in gloom, This earth is all a dismal tomb; I have no home but heaven. 5 The clouds disperse—the light appears, My sins are all forgiven; Triumphant grace has quelled my fears: Roll on, thou sun! fly swift, my years! I’m on my way to heaven. 875 S. M. Watch! My soul, be on thy guard; Ten thousand foes arise; The hosts of sin are pressing hard To draw thee from the skies. 2 O, watch, and fight, and pray; The battle ne’er give o’er; Renew it boldly every day, And help divine implore. 3 Ne’er think the victory won, Nor lay thine armor down: Thy arduous work will not be done Till thou obtain thy crown. 4 Fight on, my soul, till death Shall bring thee to thy God; He’ll take thee at thy parting breath, To his divine abode. 876 S. M. Occupy till I come. Luke 19:13. A charge to keep I have, A God to glorify, A never-dying soul to save, And fit it for the sky. 2 To serve the present age, My calling to fulfill; O, may it all my powers engage To do my Master’s will. 3 Arm me with jealous care As in thy sight to live; And O, thy servant, Lord, prepare A strict account to give. 4 Help me to watch and pray, And on thyself rely, Assured, if I my trust betray, I shall for ever die. 877 S. M. To him that overcometh. Rev. 2:7. Arise, ye saints, arise! The Lord our Leader is; The foe before his banner flies, For victory is his. 2 Lead on, almighty Lord, Lead on, to victory! Encouraged by the bright reward: With joy we’ll follow thee. 3 We’ll follow thee, our Guide, Our Saviour and our King; We’ll follow thee, through grace supplied From heaven’s eternal spring. 4 We hope to see the day When all our toils shall cease; When we shall cast our arms away, And dwell in endless peace. 5 This hope supports us here, It makes our burdens light; ’Twill serve our drooping hearts to cheer, Till faith shall end in sight; 6 Till, of the prize possessed, We hear of war no more, And O, sweet thought! for ever rest On yonder peaceful shore! 878 S. M. Go forth to glorious war.